Losing his Virginity, slowly
by LucianAella
Summary: Set after the events of It was always you, John shows Sherlock what he's been missing all his life... M/M serious Johnlock
1. Chapter 1

They lay as they did every night. Peaceful and perfect. Bare arms wrapped around each other, pulling them close. Their bodies entwined, comfortable, warm, safe.

Sherlock was still new to this, John hadn't pressed the matter. He would only do something if Sherlock was comfortable with it and not a moment before. Sherlock wanted more. He wanted all of John. He adored the cuddling and kissing but the throbbing against the confines of his trousers begged for more.

"Are you ok?" John whispered.

"Of course I am,"

John felt it too, he wanted, needed to take all of Sherlock. He was his and he knew it. But he'd start off slow. He slid his hand down to Sherlock's bulge, stroking softly through the thin fabric.

"Are you still ok?" he needed confirmation, he didn't want Sherlock to be uncomfortable, lord knew that he had been all his life.

"Yes," the ex-sociopath breathed, closing his eyes briefly as John increased the tempo of his strokes. Sherlock nuzzled into John, pressing his hips onto his partner's. John's nimble fingers snuck into Sherlock's pants, tugging harder on his cock. "Are you sure?" he grinned, kissing the taller man and receiving no more than a blissful moan in reply.

The consulting detective ran his hands hungrily over John's backside and upper thighs, kissing him, almost involuntarily thrusting into his skilled hand which searched every part of him from his base to his head, rubbing the underside, running over the tip and trailing pre come back along the shaft.

Sherlock could feel John's erection pressing hard against his thigh. It wasn't long until Sherlock's climax overwhelmed him causing him to shudder and break apart the kiss.

"Sherlock?"

"I love you," he mumbled, pushing himself harder against his John so he couldn't remove his hand from his pants, ignoring the sticky wetness.

"I need my hand you know," John grinned.

"No you don't. It's mine now," he replied childishly.

John couldn't help but giggle, "If you say so."

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"Could we do this again sometime, please?" Sherlock asked hopefully.

"Of course we can." he kissed him gently, "And you know what? There is so much more we can do." He pressed his lips firmly against Sherlock's, savouring the warmth as they drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

"Morning," Sherlock woke John up with a soft kiss. John mumbled something incomprehensible and attempted to roll away, forgetting that his hand was still stuck in the taller man's pants causing Sherlock to roll on top of him.

"Get off!" he complained.

"I can't, you've got me," he laughed, trying to move off of him.

"Erf, we really need to wash," John murmured when he finally removed his hand covered in dried cum.

He stumbled into the bathroom, still groggy from sleep, closely followed by Sherlock.

"Sherlock?" John asked, unsure what he wanted. It was always hard to read the ex-sociopath's expressions, at least most of the time it was anyway.

"I need you," he whispered, stepping towards the smaller man, "I'm afraid. Afraid of what I'm feeling. I still haven't been able to convince myself what I know is true. I love you, but I'm telling myself its wrong and I can't stop it."

"Oh, Sherlock," John embraced the dark haired man tightly, arms wrapping up around his neck. "It's only natural. You shouldn't worry about feelings. I love you. You love me. That's all there needs to be." He leaned up and gently pressed his lips onto Sherlock's.

At the kiss, Sherlock could feel himself harden even more, the throbbing becoming more insistent every moment. Wrapping his arms around John's waist, he pushed his hips against his partner's, lifting him up slightly, finding that he was equally as aroused and wanting.

They slipped out of their underwear, made their way into the shower cubicle together, kissing passionately, and not letting go of each other. Cold shot up Sherlock's back as John pushed him up against the wall. Hot water gushed down, engulfing both of them.

Sherlock's hand slid down to John's cock, wanting to pleasure him as he had the night before. Breathy moans were soon escaping from John's amazing lips, still latched onto his lover's. John thrusted into Sherlock's hand, a thick spray of cum shooting over their thighs. It was quickly washed away by the hot water. John moaned loudly, pushing himself against the taller man.

The doctor slid down until he was kneeling in front of the virgin, taking in the sight of his cock, long, hard and leaking pre cum. Looking down, he was surprised to see his partner down by his crotch. Their eyes locked, John's asking confirmation, and Sherlock's pleading for him to continue.

The consulting detective gasped as John's warm wet mouth took his member in one, going all the way to the base before pulling back, sucking gently as he ran his tongue over the head. Sherlock's long fingers curled tightly into John's short sodden hair, encouraging him to continue. John's hands ran over his backside, making it easier to take him in all at once again, his nose buried in the soft hair that lead down from his navel.

Sherlock started to move his hips in rhythm to John's skilled tongue stroking along his length, realising he wouldn't be able to hold his seed in much longer.

His eyes locked with John's, he briefly held the gaze before he tilted his head back, hitting the wall, water streaming down his face. He shouted John's name as he climaxed, his fingers digging hard into his scalp. John swallowed happily. He looked up at Sherlock, grinning, a bit of white remaining on the corner of his mouth before the water washed it away.

Slowly, John stood up, rubbing his body against his partner's. Their lips pressed together, the consulting detective could taste himself on the smaller man's lips.

"Thank you," Sherlock mumbled, leaning his head down onto John's shoulder, his arms around his waist, pulling him as close as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

"I love you," whispered Sherlock, his head resting on John's bare chest. A few weeks had passed since John had had started teaching Sherlock what he'd been missing his whole life and he had proved that he was a fast learner, but they had gone no further.

"I love you too," John pressed a soft kiss on the top of his head, running his fingers through his thick curls.

"I need you,"

"I'm here, Sherlie, what do you want?"

"I need you," Sherlock repeated, moving so he was lying fully on top of the shorter man, his head propped up on John's chest, puppy dog eyes gazing lustily up in to the doctor's.

Realisation dawned on him. Surely he couldn't mean that. Surely it was happening too fast but John wanted it, he started to harden at the thought. If he meant what John thought he meant he wasn't exactly going to refuse…his heartbeat quickened.

"Are you ok?" Sherlock asked, his arms snaking around John's neck, pulling them into a warm kiss.

"I'm fine," he giggled, "Do you want what I think you want?"

"I need you. I want you. I want you to take all of me. I want you inside of…" he trailed off, blushing slightly.

"Oh, Sherlock," John awkwardly reached for the bedside cabinet, attempting to open it while an unmoving Sherlock lay happily on top of him, with a slightly confused expression on his gorgeous face. He withdrew a bottle of lavender lube from the cabinet.

"Is this what you want?" he asked, wanting ever so much for the affirmative but wouldn't press Sherlock into anything he didn't want. He had waited so long for this night. Sherlock nodded slowly, kissing his John again. Sherlock sat up abruptly, straddling John so their hardening cocks rubbed together. A hand slid behind John's back, pulling him up.

"Please?" he asked.

John grinned, gave him a quick kiss then said, "Turn over then."

"But I want to face you," came the reply, a crease of confusion on his brow.

"Ok, but you'll have to move a bit. You've never done this, it's going to hurt. I need you to be sure you want this."

"I don't mind, I want this. Where do I need to be?"

John positioned his lover so he could get to his backside easy enough but they were still facing each other. He lubed up his fingers, whispered a few reassuring words in Sherlock's ears, spread his cheeks and slowly inserted the first finger into his tight entrance. Sherlock winced and gasped at the cold sensation, it felt weird, slightly painful, but right. He tensed up as John slid the finger out and returned with two.

"Relax," John soothed, "It'll be easier if you can relax."

John slowly began scissoring his fingers, opening up his partner's entrance. At last he removed his fingers and spread the lube over his throbbing erection. He lined up and gently as he could slid himself into Sherlock earning a loud groan. Sherlock pushed himself down on his lover, his eyes closed tight. He needed this, however painful it was, he needed John inside of him fully.

Slowly, they built up a rhythm, increasing in speed, hitting his prostate every third or fourth thrust. John's hand pumped the consulting detective's erection in time with the thrusts. Sherlock's nails were digging into John's back clawing it, though not hard enough to draw blood. Their room became filled with loud moans and grunts.

John could feel himself nearing his end, he shouted out Sherlock's name as he emptied himself into him. As Sherlock's own climax burst over him, cum spraying up between them, covering both of their stomachs. They collapsed in a sweaty exhausted heap. Sherlock was aching, it was a good dull ache but he was unsure how well he'd be able to sit down the next day.

"Thank you," he mumbled, nuzzling into John's shoulder.

"My pleasure," John kissed him, "Come on, we need to get cleaned up before we sleep."


End file.
